Fingertips
by Bento Box
Summary: Spike dreams. Spike gets a little nookie. Spike faces a spike. Spike wakes up. Sequel pending. o_o


Fingertips  
By. Bento Box  
Completed on: August 29th, 2002  
Disclaimers: All characters are from the television series _Buffy the Vampire Slaye_r and are copyrighted to Joss Whedon, the WB Network, Mutant Enemy, Sandollar, UPN, and every-frickin-one else besides me. No copyright infringement intended.  
Draft three; second draft BETAed by zee won-dee-ful Darth Lepidopterix (otherwise known as the great Sajinn of the ass whompin' plot bunnies). 

---

He was lost in a haze of stir fried sweet and sour chicken with just the right amount of an O negative sauce drizzled over the plump, filling jasmine rice. A lovely vision of pure, steaming white to contrast against the deep red.

His nostrils flared at the sight of ample chow mein heaped on blue china and he noticed with hunger that the bottle filled with hot sauce was AB positive.

He reached over with slender, ivory colored chopsticks and sank them into the mound of glistening noodles, bean sprouts, lettuce and meat covered in red. A steaming heat followed the generous amount of chow mein to his lips and when he parted them to sink his blunt teeth into he found himself sinking fanged teeth into not the thin strands of Chinese fast food but the warmth of human flesh.

Pure ecstasy flooded his senses and he groaned against the soft flesh as warm, live, _fresh human blood_ filled his mouth for the first time in what seemed like centuries but in reality was only less than two years.

He distantly felt hands clutching tightly at the fabric around his waist and the slight tremors that racked the body pressed so tightly against his own.

He breathed in deeply the scent of pure copper and the hunger he had thought was endless abated to a dull throb and the overwhelming need for it faded into a pleasant, satisfied craving. He retracted his fangs from the soft skin, and licked the small drops of blood that pooled from the two puncture marks until they closed and only faint red marks remained.

He nuzzled the smooth skin, his demon oddly calm and silent, purring silently within the space of its domain that ended where the chip began. It did not question as to why it had not been flayed apart for touching a human, and did not ask why the human was still alive.

Soothing fingers ran along his back and danced through the ungelled strands of his hair. His fangs grazed along the bare shoulder gently and the warm body shuddered slightly, and his golden eyes flashed as the scent of arousal filled his sensitive nose.

Rough, hard ridges smoothed and blunt teeth were once more dominant. Eyelids closed over blue eyes as soft lips and a cool, wet tongue explored the area between ear and jawline. The beating heart was pounding quickly and rhythmically in his ears and if the scent of fear had been his addiction in the past, then this _willingness_, this _desire_--_this_ was his aphrodisiac that bloodlust couldn't compare to.

And without pause or a second thought to the surreality if it all, naked flesh was gliding against naked flesh, and he felt _alive_. His cool flesh was stroked over and over and all around by the branding heat, and there could be no words to describe this--this, whatever _this_ was.

Male or female, he couldn't tell as it eluded him even as he thrust languidly against soft, yielding flesh. His lips mapped out the soft planes of the unknown face and he couldn't seem to gather the will to open his eyes to see who this mortal was that made his senses scream and burn so easily and freely without any other emotion except pure desire.

The demon stirred and though its blood thirst was quenched it now hungered for something else, something that was this nameless, faceless, sexless being.

He threw his head back as the demon came out to play, a guttural howl rolling from the harsh visage as a warm hand encircled the core of his arousal. Soft lips, a hot tongue and swift little licks were placed all over his bare chest and the slender fingers curled and opened, slid downwards and upwards, to encircle painfully, wonderfully, tightly around him.

A low moan escaped his throat as his hips began to thrust, gaining a fierce and wild tempo that matched the fisting and the pounding of the beating heart.

And his cool body caught on fire even as his body gave way to a cool release, and he sagged to the tiled floor that he hadn't clearly noticed, and the warm body slid with him, enveloping him in a soothing embrace as the fire running through his body began to bank and die out.

One last shudder and he found that his eyes were open and staring into mischievous brown ones above his own.

_Whelp?!_

Before the surprise could settle over his mind, he felt the tiny prickle of something sharp, and then a swiftly rising pain as the point of the wooden stake bit deep into the flesh over his heart.

He didn't have enough time to react, to feel the shock, the surprise, the unexplainable sense of _betrayal_, to let it all sink in, before the agony eclipsed into darkness.

---

The decaying, rotting smell surrounded him, reaching for his disgust even as he struggled with the black blindfold over his eyes.

The blindfold turned out to be a beer-stained shirt, and he flung it to one side of the crypt where it landed in a muffled rustle.

Groaning, he blinked bleary eyes, dragging himself into an upright position on the cold stone floor. Blurred vision located the two week old fast food and the vermin that currently infested it. He felt the bile rise up in the back of his throat and turned away from the unrecognizable sight of rotten chicken and chow mein.

Rising unsteadily to his feet, he rubbed his temple with one hand, and the other went to scratch a dull itch on his chest.

He stopped, awareness returning to him in sharp clarity as he brought away the hand that had been scratching his chest up to his face.

He stared at the smeared blood that covered his fingers and nestled under the rough edges of his nails.

And the dream came rushing back.


End file.
